


First Date Hiccups

by Killercereal



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25281361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killercereal/pseuds/Killercereal
Summary: Alleged master thief Santana Lopez doesn't get caught, but when she does it's because of a girl.
Relationships: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

This is for Lulu. Love ya.

First Date Hiccups

FBI Headquarters

A single light bulb swung in the otherwise darkened room casting constantly moving shadows over its three occupants. Next to the door a figure hidden from the dim light flipped a coin over and over silently watching the scene unfold at the table in the centre of the room. On one side of the slightly grubby table towered an angry FBI agent, arms folded, eyes blazing. On the other sat a restrained suspect who appeared completely unfazed by the intimidation tactics as they looked around at the surroundings with mock interest.

"I love what you've done with the place. No, I'm serious. I appreciate the effort you've gone to here, Fabray. It's very atmospheric. A hell of an improvement on last time in the white room. The neon strip lights did nothing for your five o'clock shadow."

"Tell me where the diamonds are, Santana."

"You seem a little highly strung there, Fabray. Maybe you could get Special Agent Berry to relieve a little tension-"

The figure next to the door chuckled, shutting up abruptly as FBI Special Agent Fabray slammed her hands onto the tabletop behind which Santana Lopez, alleged master thief, was handcuffed to a chair.

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!" Santana retorted immediately. "C'mon, Quinnie. We all know you've been banging the midget's drum."

"What does that even- shut up! Where are the diamonds?" Agent Fabray yelled at the suspect.

"Whoa say it, don't spray it. If I wanted the weather I'd look out the window, if there was a window in here. Isn't that inhumane or something? Maybe next time you redecorate. Loud with a chance of moisture. Oh no, my bad, that's Berry again."

Agent Fabray gritted her teeth and failed to restrain a strangled groan of frustration.

"What's the matter now, Fabgay? You don't like the word moist? Moist moist moist moist-"

The door to the interview room slammed shut behind Agent Fabray as she marched out to pace the corridor beyond and calm herself down.

Santana snorted with laughter then asked the second agent, who had been propping up the wall, for a smoke.

"Not indoors, sorry," he replied.

After a minute Agent Fabray returned and threw a pile of photographs taken from CCTV cameras on the desk in front of Santana.

"These images place you in the area just before the robbery took place."

"I was on a date. You remember what a date is, don't you? Or have you not got past fumbling in the photocopy room with Berry yet? A first date, and if you fucked it up because of your insatiable need to ruin my life and live vicariously through my hot lady lovin' I will spend the rest of my life making you regret arresting me ON A DATE. Unforgivable. Did your sub standard spying indicate how freakin' beautiful she is? I will never forgive you.

"Sweet baby Jesus, give me strength," Quinn said quietly as she rubbed her temples. "Santana, let me help you. Tell me where the diamonds are and I can help you."

"I don't need your fucking help. You've ruined my night as it is, and just because I was window shopping in the vicinity of a jewellery heist does not mean I stole any diamonds."

"Were you window shopping for a five fingered discount?"

"Do you really want to bring up fingers with me? You know you cant handle this sort of talk and you get all flustered. This could even be construed as sexual harassment. It was hot all right-"

"Shut up! I meant it was hot as in you stole forty million dollars worth of diamonds!"

"You raging pervert. Were you spying on us? Berry not satisfying you enough? Need to get your kicks in other ways?" Santana stuck her tongue out lasciviously but couldn't control herself at the look on Quinn's face and cracked up into an explosion of laughter.

"I swear to god," Quinn clenched her fists. "I cant even- Puckerman! You deal with her."

"What, no Finnessa today?" Santana asked the second agent who stepped out into the light cast by the light bulb.

"He's just returned to light duties recently. He's been off with stress," Agent Puckerman blabbed.

Santana snorted angrily. "I'll stress him all right, that fucking moron. I hope he's been neutered and not allowed out with anything more dangerous than a paintball gun. And even then I bet he'd shoot himself in the eye with that."

"How is Artie?" Puckerman asked, subdued.

"Oh, you know, loving life right now. Tell Finn he says hi," Santana spat.

Puck shuffled the papers in front of him and cleared his throat. "Let me spell this out for you," he began. "You are a known criminal who-"

"This is racial profiling."

"-was seen near a jewellery store which twenty minutes later was cleaned out of forty million dollars worth of diamonds. You were seen profiling the place with notorious international cat burglar Brittany Pierce."

Santana's scowl melted into a sappy grin at the mention of her date. "Yeah, we were on a date."

~There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer~

The agents looked around the room puzzled at the sudden intrusion of the off key singing.

"Where's that coming from?"

Santana's eyes widened for second before she got her expression under control as she recognized the singing.

~But diamonds are a girl's best friend~

"Find it!" Quinn barked out. "Don't you move a muscle," she pointed at the almost certainly guilty party currently handcuffed to the desk and left the interrogation room. The door slammed shut leaving Santana alone.

She tilted her head and muttered, "Sugar?"

~But square-cut or pear-shaped, these rocks don't lose their shape. Diamonds are a girl's best friend~

"Sugar!" Santana yelled into thin air

~What? Oh my god, no need to yell it's not like I'm deaf. What? Came a surprised voice over the minuscule comm device hidden in Santana's ear.

"You're broadcasting on an unsecured channel which has patched into the station's open comm system. They can hear you. Now stop singing and get me the fuck out of here."

~Oh, okay. Sorry about that. Must have pressed the wrong button.A screech rendered over the speakers in the corner of the interrogation room. ~I got carried away, these things are so shiny.

"Sugar..."

~Alright, alright, don't get your thong in a bunch. I'll be there in thirty. Don't panic.~

"Your 'lawyer' is here," Quinn said, her face a picture of disbelief as Sugar walked in behind her dressed in a power suit with a set of dark framed spectacles on, her hair tied up in a bun. She would have looked the part if it weren't for the handcuffs she was sporting and Agent Puckerman leading her to the seat next to Santana where he arranged them so the two women were back to back and then handcuffed them together.

"Hey, boss. I'm here to rescue you," Sugar tried to pivot around in her seat to look at Santana only succeeding in yanking Santana around uncomfortably.

"How's that working out so far?" Santana snarled through gritted teeth.

"It could be better, I admit. But it's still my first few weeks on the job and I think I should get more credit for trying."

"We are in an FBI building, tied up illegally, being interrogated for a diamond heist. We do not have time for you to settle into the job!"

"Stop being mean. I would have us both out of here already but that Fabray has like freaky sneaky quick reflexes. She caught me trying to pick pocket her keys."

"What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"Stop yelling at me for a start. Brittany said I'm doing awesome."

"Brittany?" Santana's demeanour changed immediately as she fidgeted trying to look at Sugar. "My Brittany? When did she say that? How do you know that?"

"She sent me to get you. She's good, like really good at this stuff. I think we should keep her."

"I think I should do a swap, you for her. Why are you wearing my glasses? You know the one rule of thief club is no one touches my glasses."

"They're for my disguise. Anyway, don't you need them to see? I brought them to you, you should be pleased! Maybe if you'd been wearing them on your date instead of trying to impress Brittany with your fake eyesight you would have been able to see what was happening and not got caught."

Through the mirrored glass wall Quinn and Puck exchanged an amused glance as the alleged hardened criminal and her assistant bickered.

"Are you sure they're ingenious super criminals?" Puck asked.

"Sometimes I'm not sure," said Quinn, turning back to the two women tied together.

"You know we cant actually keep them here. We don't have any evidence," Puck said quietly.

"I know," Quinn sighed. "Santana needs to be reminded I'm watching her. Just let them stew for a bit longer." She turned back to the interrogation room where Santana was fuming at Sugar.

"Shut up!" Santana was yelling. "Right now I have no idea why I hired you."

"You said my boots were awesome and we have the same size feet and I said you could borrow them whenever and you were like, okay then."

"I want Artie back," Santana whined.

"He doesn't want to come back. Not after what happened with Finn."

"I know, I know," she sighed. "But at least he can work the stereo in the van."

"That was one time! I didn't know there was a nitro turbo thing switch okay. God, I cant wait to tell your girlfriend all embarrassing stuff about you."

"Girlfriend?" Santana struggled with her ties as she tried to manoeuvre around to see Sugar once more. "Did she say that? Did she use that word? Answer me, dammit!"

"I'm not speaking to you until you start being nicer to me."

"Why did she send you? You're as tied up as I am."

Agent Fabray sat up in alert at the next words to come out of the room.

"Duh. I'm the distraction."

Quinn watched the women argue as she sat alone in the observation booth. Puckerman had been sent to set up a perimeter around the building with strict instructions not to let anyone in or out.

"Sit still!" said Santana, her patience wearing down.

"I'm just singing," Sugar huffed.

"Well don't."

"Shine bright like a diamond."

"For god's sake, stop singing about diamonds."

"What? I'm just excited for payday, you know?"

"Sugar."

"Aww, c'mon. You said yourself they're so stupid they couldn't catch a cold."

"No, Sugar. Do you hear that?"

Both women looked startled as an unidentified deep rumbling noise gradually got louder and louder until the room began to shake and the lone light bulb began to swing erratically. Sugar shrieked and even Santana looked taken aback as Agent Fabray ran in with her gun drawn.

"What are you doing?" Fabray shouted at them.

"Singing?"

"Contemplating the human condition?"

"What's that noise?" Quinn shouted as the rumbling sound got louder.

The light flickered as a tremor ran through the building. Quinn grabbed onto the door frame to keep her balance. Shouting and an alarm ringing could be heard coming from outside the room. Sugar began to cry as the room shook, dust rained down from the ceiling and the first of the ceiling tiles fell in. "We're going to die," she wailed.

"Sugar, move the chairs with me," Santana yelled across the escalating rumbling noise. "Fabray, untie us for fuck's sake."

Quinn holstered her gun and ran over to the women who were shuffling their chairs away from the exterior wall which shuddered with strain from the outside. The interior cladding of the room cracked under the next impact. Another impact created a hole through which daylight was visible. Sugar screamed and buried herself in Santana's arms. "I'm too hot to die," she sobbed.

Quinn stared as the hole got bigger. What the hell could rip a wall down?

A yellow painted metal frame rammed through the wall, enlarging the hole and knocking down half the brickwork which collapsed in front of the interior door, leaving the room exposed to the outside elements.

Quinn fainted.

The roar of the machine and the impacts as it assaulted the building stopped and the metal frame finally rested against the hole it had made. Santana coughed and gripped tightly onto Sugar as she squinted through the masonry dust. She could see some movement through the settling cloud of powdered building as someone climbed into the room through the hole in the wall.

"Brittany?" Santana squeaked in surprise as Brittany grinned back at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi. Well, I thought, we didn't get to finish our date. I mean, after you went and got arrested because you were making sure I escaped, that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me by the way, I didn't even get a chance to kiss you goodnight or ask you on a second date."

"Huh," Santana tried to play it cool, the effect somewhat lessened by the dust coating every inch of her and the lopsided smirk she was failing to hide. "What makes you think you were going to get a second date?"

Sugar groaned and shoved Santana towards Brittany then grabbed a pair of handcuffs and made her way over to Quinn who was beginning to come round.

Brittany dusted off Santana's shoulders and ran her fingers along collar and grinned as Santana shuddered from her touch.

"Diamonds on a first date. I know you're serious."

"Diamonds are forever," Santana gulped. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I put a tracker on Sugar."

Quinn spluttered as she regained consciousness. She let out a startled 'Eep!' at Sugar leaning over her, cuffing her to a chair.

"Oh hi, Quinn. Didn't see you there," Brittany said with a smile.

"What?" Santana did a double take. "You two know each other?"

"We were in cheerleading together. How do you know each other?"

"Aside from Quinn being a perpetual thorn in my side? We were at the FBI academy together. I decided a life of crime paid better."

"So, how about that date?" Brittany persisted, happily ignoring the other occupants of the room. "I was thinking we could go to the art museum. There's a Van Gogh exhibition on."

"That's like a billion dollars worth of paintings in one room," Sugar gasped from where she was tightening Quinn's handcuffs. "And you just told the FBI agent what we we're going to steal next. I mean, not steal. No one steals anything, because stealing's bad." Sugar looked worriedly at the couple making bedroom eyes at each other with their arms around each others waists. "We're not going to kill her, are we? I'm not good with blood."

Quinns eyes widened, she hadn't thought of that.

"It's not like she could ever catch us anyway," Santana snorted and winked at Quinn as she threw the keys to the handcuffs out of the hole in the wall.

"Until next time, Fabgay."

"Bye Quinn," Brittany waved as she climbed out of the wall after Santana.

"This is what happens when you arrest people unfairly," Sugar said as she followed them.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend?" Quinn asked her.

Sugar beamed. "Damn right they are."

Quinn growled.

6 hours later

"Fabray!" FBI Director Sylvester barked at the sheepish looking agents in front of her. "You have twelve point four seconds to explain to me exactly why my wall is missing."

Agent Fabray looked up from where she had been closely examining her shoes for the answer to her current predicament and said quietly in an attempt to not provoke any further wrath.

"Two suspects brought in for questioning left via the gaping hole in the building caused by a wrecking ball crane operated by the third suspect."

"This? This is the reason I can hear the monotonous sounds of the miserable masses going about their daily grind echoing down the corridors of this fine upstanding institutional building?" Sylvester fumed. "I do not want their common business in my building, do I make myself clear? Now, fix it!"

"Agent Hudson in working on it already," Agent Puckerman informed her.

"Director!" Agent Hudson came lumbering up at that moment to the Director's office where the door was conveniently open so all of the minions could hear the tongue lashing being delivered. "The hole in the wall," he breathed out heavily. "The team are looking into it."

Puckerman spluttered with laughter trying to contain it until air was forced out of his nose with a 'weeee' sound.

Hudson blinked bemusedly at Puckerman's reaction. "The birds are getting in. I think they're nesting," he said.

"Get out of my sight the three of you," Sylvester snarled. "Fabray, wait."

"I can see your eyebrow doing that twitchy thing when you get really mad. I want you to channel that fury and use it to find them. Take someone with a modicum of practical ability with you. Not those oafs. Take Berry."

Quinn grimaced.

"And when you find them…"

Fabray looked up, hopeful. "Shoot them?"

"Recruit them."


	2. Chapter 2

Second Date

"You live on a houseboat! You live on a houseboat! Why didn't I know about this? This is so cool," Sugar squealed with excitement and ran inside, disappearing into the depths of the boat.

"I'm sorry about her," said Santana, standing on the floating pontoon with her shiny new girlfriend with Brittany's boat tethered next to them.

"It's fine," Brittany chuckled. "I was just as excited when I first saw it. Do you like it?" She asked hopefully as Santana looked over the catamaran twin hulled river cruiser.

"It's amazing, Britt. I love it."

"The water makes it hard for people to creep up without getting wet. Or caught. There are all sorts of sensors, waters a great conductor." Brittany hopped onto the deck then reached her hand out to assist Santana in stepping onto the boat. Once aboard neither of them let go of the other's hand. Brittany opened a steel door and led Santana into a large open space used as the main living area.

"It's like an apartment on water," Sugar's head popped up randomly from the floor like a whack-a-mole from what turned out to be stairs leading down to a lower deck.

"I'd like you both to meet my tech guy," Brittany waved her free hand towards a wooden desk upon which sat a laptop hooked up via many tangled cables to some black boxes emitting flashing lights and whirring noises. "This is Lord Tubbington."

"Are... you talking about the cat sitting next to the laptop?" Santana asked, tilting her head to the side like a curious puppy while Sugar ran over to scratch behind his ears.

"Of course I am," Brittany grinned. "I don't see anyone else here. He's a tech whizz and big time hacker, what he doesn't know about technological subterfuge isn't worth knowing. Plus, no one ever suspects the cat."

"How does he type without any fingers?" Santana stared at the cat with reluctant respect.

"Shhh," Brittany tugged Santana closer and murmured quietly. "He doesn't like his methods questioned."

"Okay," Santana slipped an arm around Brittany's waist. "So when can I see the bedroom?"

"Why, Ms Lopez. Not before the third date, at least."

"What, seriously?"

Brittany giggled and pulled Santana flush against her, hip to hip breast to breast. "Hi."

"Hi," she breathed back. "I wish we knew each other earlier. So we'd have spent more time together already."

"Ahem." They turned their heads keeping their heads touching to look at Sugar standing watching them, eyebrows raised, with Lord Tubbington tucked under her arm. "We are here to work. So cut that out, you two."

Reluctantly the women untangled themselves and sat down around the large desk. Brittany pulled out a roll of paper from under the desk and unfurled a large technical drawing. Before she could say anything Sugar interrupted.

"Lord Tubbington and I have been talking and we've agreed that we don't want to be called the 'Tech Guys' any more. He's 'Lord and Master of the Technological Highway' and I am 'Director of Communications', or just 'The Director' for short. It'll look better on my resume."

"Director of- You patched into an open-" Santana spluttered. "I'm not..." she sighed then muttered to herself. "Let it go. Sure, Sug's. You just call yourself whatever."

"Do thieves have resumes?" Sugar asked.

"I think they're called criminal records. Please rescue me from this conversation, Brittany," Santana pleaded.

"So," Brittany said with a chuckle. "You know how you said that Starry Night is your favourite Van Gogh painting? I did a thing. How much do you want that painting?"

"I don't. That's the thing. It's my favourite but, it shouldn't belong to me. It's a pure masterpiece and the whole world should be able to see it."

"Oh-kay..." Brittany and Sugar exchanged a glance. "Well, here's a funny thing because, I already stole it."

"You what now?"

"Aww," Sugar muttered. Brittany and Santana looked over at her. "I was looking forward to stealing it. We could be shopping right now instead. LT wants a diamond studded collar."

Santana gave her a bemused look. "How do you know that?"

"Well, duh, it's obvious. Who wouldn't?"

Out of the corner of her eye Santana could see Brittany nodding in agreement.

"Well you seemed really excited about going to the exhibition," Brittany began wringing her hands anxiously.

"Yes, with you," Santana reached over and squeezed Brittany's hands gently. "We don't have to steal anything every time we go on a date."

"I didn't want you to get distracted again. I don't want you to go to prison. I mean, you were so cute getting the diamonds. Like when you stick your tongue out when you're concentrating really hard, it's adorable. So I-"

"You stole me a painting because I said I liked it?"

Sugar rolled her eyes as Santana's eyes glazed over and she gazed at Brittany with adoration.

"Yes, but-"

"That's so romantic."

"I'm glad you think so because then I put it back," Brittany gulped, worried she'd screwed this date up before it had even begun.

"You stole a painting and then put it back? I'm getting confused."

"Yes, because I had a better idea. And I tweeted you and Sugar said that's what you'd say about everyone being able to see it."

"She did? Wait, we have Twitter?"

"Hello, Director of Communications here," Sugar emphasised the communications part while pointing to herself with both hands. "Do you know Quinn follows us? Uh, no. Forget I said that."

Brittany took Santana by both hands and took a deep steadying breath.

"Santana, will you do me the honour of accompanying me to the VIP charity gala of the Van Gogh exhibition this weekend to see your painting? And it is yours, because I stole it for you... And then put it back because you want everyone to be able to see it. But know that it is yours."

Sugar rolled her eyes as Santana giggled and said, "I would love to."

"Even though the FBI will be watching every move," Sugar interrupted the googly eyes going on in front of her.

"Quinn will think were going to steal something," Brittany snapped out of her Santana induced haze. "So, let her think that while we have a good night. She really shouldn't arrest people when they're in the middle of a date. I didn't like that." Brittany's face darkened into an expression neither Santana or Sugar had witnessed before the complete opposite of her usually sunny disposition.

"These are the blueprints for the art museum." Brittany explained the papers she had rolled out previously. "Exits are located here here and here. Fire exits and alarm stations are here. We need to work out the security detail for the event. Lord Tubbington already got us unofficial genuine tickets. We are good to go."

"What about the paintings?" Santana asked. "Quinn will be expecting us from when they arrive in the country until the second they leave."

"Quinn will be paranoid so no matter what we do she'll think we're going to steal them. But I thought you might like it if... never mind. It'll be a surprise. Let's just say Lord Tubbington knows a guy who knows a guy and we did a thing."

"You did a thing with a guy?" Santana looked mildly stricken.

"Not like that!" Brittany protested. "I only want to do the thing with you," she smirked leaning in drawn to Santana's pouty lips.

Sugar began to tap away on the tablet laid on the table top between her and Lord Tubbington. "I want a pay rise," Sugar sighed as her boss and Brittany locked lips in front of her. "We need to work out what we would do to protect the paintings then half the amount of genius and effort that would take to get the FBI standards."

"Fabray is sharp as a tack we also need to factor in her unpredictable temper tantrums," Santana's voice was muffled by Brittany's lips.

"This is going to be some much fun," Sugar giggled as she worked away at the tablet. "Oooh, lets add some false alarms as well just to piss her off. And intercept their comms. Oh my god, someone should wear some diamonds. She will flip a shit."

"So I was thinking," Brittany sat back all of a sudden. "These dates are awesome. First diamonds and then paintings. What do you want to do next?"

"Well, we've done 40 million worth of diamonds, 100 millions worth of paintings," Santana mused.

"What about drugs? They're like, billions."

"Gross, Sugar. Drugs are tacky as hell. How about something priceless?"

"Like what?" Brittany asked.

"You. You stole my heart in the first second I saw you. I'm going to steal you away to a deserted beach and lay you down in the sand and-"

They both ignored the gagging noise coming from Sugar's vicinity. Sugar looked away from the kissing scene to Lord Tubbington.

"I've a feeling this is going to happen a lot from now on. Want to order pizza?" He blinked at her. "No anchovies on my side though." She scratched his ears and he purred contentedly. "How do you get your fur that soft? You can tell me your secret. We've got our own tech union now."

Art Museum on date night

"FBI, freeze!"

FBI Special Agent Rachel Berry tried to hold up her badge and gun at the same time, dropping both in the process, as she attempted to arrest the door to the security office in the Art Museum. It was fortunate that she didn't have her gun in her hand as the door opened without a knock and she jumped in fright.

"I got you falafel," said Quinn as she pushed the door open with her fine ass, her arms full of papers and a large take-out bag.

"Thank you, Quinn. That's very thoughtful of you," said her partner, overly cheerily as she tried to casually pick her gun off the floor.

"Uh, you're welcome," Quinn eyed her curiously but thought it better not to ask. "What's the latest?"

"Nothing to report. Not even someone suspicious or in disguise."

"You sound disappointed. How would you know if someone was in disguise?"

"I can tell when someone's nose is fake. It's like my superpower," Rachel said with a cocky smile.

"Ahem, okay," Quinn rubbed her own nose discretely. "Well, anyway. This is the last night of the exhibition. They'll make their move tonight, I'm sure of it." Quinn scanned the monitors Rachel had been watching. "Puckerman, report in."

~Nothing to report.~ Puckerman's voice came in over the comm. ~Museums are boring as hell~

"Where's Hudson?"

~Oh uh, he went to the... bathroom~

"Again? That's not even possible, he would be in hospital if he had to go that often. Where is he really?"

~He's in the little shop~ Came Puck's reluctant reply.

"Rachel, I thought I told you not to put him near the café or the shop, he's too easily distracted. I bet he's playing with plastic dinosaurs as we speak. Why did you move him?" Quinn demanded.

"He has a direct view of the main entrance now. And he asked so nicely, he was really cute about it," Rachel answered hopefully.

"Exactly, now he's in view of the entrance. What if Santana sees him? She'll probably shoot him with his own taser."

"Rather that than a real gun."

"That's why he's banned from carrying a gun. In case she shoots him with it!"

~I'm bored.~ Sugar whined into her headset. To her displeasure she was shut up in the back of a van which smelled like it had spent a previous life as a burger van before Santana had bought it at an auction. Santana and Sugar at an auction, now that's a tale for another day. She was monitoring the event from the street behind the impressive old building hosting the art museum.

~You're supposed to be pretending to do re-con. Santana. Stop staring at Brittany's ass.~

"I cant help it, my eyes are drawn to it like a moth to a flame," Santana drooled. "This isn't re-con. This is annoying Quinn con."

~In that case, I'm going shopping~

"No, you cant! You have to keep an eye on the Fumbling Bureau of Incompetent fuckups," Santana hissed into the mic hidden in her bracelet. She prayed no one was looking or she'd look very strange talking to herself while Brittany was off getting them drinks.

~They're not doing anything. Hudson's playing dinosaurs with some kids, Puckerman's chatting up some museum lady. She's got the librarian look going on, it's kinda hot~

"Focus, Sugar."

~And Quinn and the loud one are eating what looks like fossilised animal droppings. LT is playing online poker~

"Don't you dare desert your post, Motta."

~I'm not. I'm simply opening a window to another world. A better world. An electronic shopping world. To ebay. Ohmygod vintage Prada handbag. Time runs out in thirteen minutes, I have to have it! That's it, I'm using the company credit card~

"What company credit card? We don't have a- Hey wait, are you in my purse? Shit. Don't you buy anything."

~This is an emergency, Santana. It's in mint condition~ Sugar squealed. ~Mint condition. I must make it mine~

"What's happening?" asked Brittany as she returned to her date with two glasses of champagne. "You look like you're arguing with your hand."

"That's coming out of your pay," Santana said into her mic than smiled at Brittany and took the proffered drink. "Thanks. Oh, Sugar is testing me. The kid is hard work sometimes."

"You love her really," Brittany smiled at her.

~I heard that. Yes, she does!~ Came the voice over their comm., much to Brittany's amusement.

"Santana," said Brittany waving over a handsome young man with a twinkle in his eye. "I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. Santana, this is Mike Chang and over there buttering up the suits is his wife Tina. They're what you could call...art enthusiasts."

"How did they get in there? I didn't see them arrive." Quinn watched the monitor in amazement, and as always, suspicion, as Santana exchanged pleasantries with the stranger. "Find out who he is," she ordered Rachel.

"But there they are, lets go get them!" Rachel jumped up, chomping at the bit to arrest them... In front of all those rich powerful people. She would march in there calling for calm while laying down the law and-

"No wait, Rachel." Quinn's voice snapped her out of her Super Agent fantasy. "They're not doing anything but looking sickeningly in love."

The muscles in Quinn's jaw clenched as Santana blew the security camera a kiss from where it was watching, eagle eyed, as the couple moved from picture to picture admiring the amazing artwork.

"If they're not going to steal anything I can at the very least give them a caution for over zealous PDA on the verge of indecent exposure. Did you see where Suspect Pierce just put her hand?" Rachel squeaked, outraged. "You cant even see it!"

"Rachel, don't you dare-" The door slammed shut. Quinn groaned as she saw Rachel had left her badge and gun behind on the desk in her enthusiasm.

"Oh god, no," Santana hid her face in Brittany's neck at the sight of the oncoming blustering Agent.

"Who are you?" Brittany asked, holding Santana close to her protectively.

Before Rachel could open her mouth to speak Santana cut her off.

"Agent Booby, also known as Rachel Berry. Are you aware you're impersonating a federal Agent? You're too short to be a fed. I'm pretty sure that's illegal. Don't you usually save that kinky dressing up shit for behind closed doors with Quinn?"

"Agent Fabray and I do not have that kind of- What business is it of yours?"

"Rachel!" Quinn appeared from the side and grabbed Rachel by the arm.

"Quinnie the Pooh. What a complete and utter shocking occurrence to find you here," Santana said smoothly with a smirk. "You'll be no doubt infuriated to know we're leaving now and as your no doubt suspicious mind is working overtime, allow me to show you that we are not concealing any paintings." She did a twirl in her tight and revealing dress which hid nothing to the imagination and certainly not any paintings. "You wanna frisk me?" Santana smirked.

"Where did you get those diamonds?" Rachel blurted out, referring to the sparkling necklace around Brittany's neck.

"Santana gave them to me," Brittany grinned. "You like them, Quinn?"

Quinn growled and pulled Rachel away. She took a quick look at the paintings all accounted for hanging on the walls with hundreds of people milling around looking at them. "This isn't over, Santana."

"By no means."

Back in the van Sugar yelped as she got a smack around the back of the head and pouted unhappily as she watched Santana snap her own credit card in half.

"Wait, I still have your surprise for you." Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and pulled her onto her lap. "Are you ready?" Santana nodded happily.

"Hit it, Tubbs," said Sugar over the comm to Lord Tubbington back at the houseboat.

The gang watched with interest at the live feed coming from inside the museum as the fire alarm started up.

~The fire system is malfunctioning~

Frantic chatter from the museum staff could be heard over Quinn and Rachel's feed.

~Get everyone out~

"How is it malfunctioning?" Rachel asked Quinn as they watched the guests exit hurriedly, trying not to trip over their fancy clothes. The agents had to remain and guard the paintings until the last possible second before they burnt to a crisp.

"There are shutters which come down to cover the paintings. They must be stuck. They're fire retardant and water res-"

The sprinklers burst into action and sprayed everything with a surface area.

"They stop the sprinklers from reaching the artwork," Quinn finished with a whisper as water trickled down every object in the room, including the exhibition.

"Save the paintings," Rachel screamed and threw herself at Van Gogh's self portrait. "Quinn look!"

"Sugar, I want screen shots of every single moment of this," Santana cackled with glee.

"What is it?" Quinn asked.

"Paint... the paint is coming off the picture!"

"Let me see that... what? How? … They're fakes!" The blood could be seen draining from Quinn's face even through the hacked security feed.

"Fakes... Director Sylvester is going to murder us and hide our bodies." Rachel let a huge broken sob. "I'm too talented to die."

Quinn looked around for Santana and Brittany but they were long gone along with the crowd of people who had been quickly evacuated by more competent members of museum staff. She watched in dismay as the paint on every single picture began to run, the colours dripping over the frames and down the walls.  
Death would be too good for those two. Maybe Quinn could murder them, bury them, dig them up again, bring them back to life then murder them again.

"Wait!" Rachel screeched in Quinn's ear rudely shaking her from her daydream. "There's more paint underneath. Another layer. What's... happening?"

They watched as under the unrelenting spray of water the paintings which had turned from originals to fakes now turned back to the originals as the paint washed away revealing the underlying original masterpieces.

"Ooooh," Rachel breathed out in awe.

Quinn began to breathe again as the situation in front of her began to sink in. The relief she felt was eclipsed by shaking fury as she spluttered with incandescent rage.

"Those sons of sly, conniving, cheating, lying, two faced, no good, manipulative, thieving-"

In the back alley behind the museum the van shook as Santana rocked with laughter at the array of expressions running across Quinn's face. "Britt," she gasped through tears of laughter. "Britt, you're an evil genius. I love you."

Brittany wiped away Santana's tears and sat staring at the woman on her lap, stunned by her words. Santana almost didn't seem to realise what she had said as she began to hiccup from laughing so much. Brittany hugged Santana tighter to her where they still sat on the same seat, Santana with one arm around Brittany's neck holding herself steady.

Sugar smirked into her microphone. "Okay LT. Turn off the fire shizzle. The job is done."

Inside the museum the alarm stopped blaring, the lights stopped flashing and the sprinklers stopped spraying.

"Damn," Rachel, whispered reverently. She stood next to a now silent Quinn, both staring at the Van Gogh collection looking down at them from the walls in pristine condition. "They're good."

Water could be heard dripping everywhere. Rachel wiped the drops from her face and tried to wring out her shirt. It was all Quinn could do to blink away the water drops from her eyelashes.

"Agent Fabray?" An unlucky rookie had got the job of approaching the almost catatonic agent. He hesitantly made his way over to the Agent who was staring at Starry Night with murder in her eyes. "There was a note for you at the front desk."

Quinn pushed her soaked hair back off her face water dripped down onto the piece of paper in her hand. 2-0, it read. She scrunched it up in her fist and threw it at the approaching Agent Puckerman.

"What happened this time?" she sighed with exhaustion at the sight in front of her.

Puck shifted the dead weight in his arms and coughed. "Umm, found him unconscious in a cubicle in the bathroom. He's been tasered." When there was no response from Quinn for more than sixty seconds Puck asked, "Umm, Quinn- I mean, Agent Fabray, are you okay?"

"This is the worst night of my life."

Puck wisely kept quiet as Quinn came over to help him, taking the unconscious Finn Hudson's other arm and helping Puck carry him outside. On Finn's face, in black marker pen, someone had drawn a crude penis on his forehead, given him two black eyes and a Hitler moustache.

"Your report made absolutely no sense whatsoever. I do not speak Hebrew, Berry. Someone explain, in English this time."

"Well, you see, Director-"

Director Sylvester held up her palm for silence. "I've heard more than enough from you, Agent Berry. Fabray, make it good."

"Lopez was at the VIP event. And that's it. She didn't do anything that we saw but it turned out the whole time the paintings had been compromised."

"Are you telling me that these women intercepted the paintings before they got here, painted over them so they'd look like the real ones pretending to be fake when they were actually real the whole time, put them back and then came to the opening and did nothing but wind you up?"

"That sounds about right, I think."

"Although, we don't have any evidence it was them," Rachel added hesitantly, fidgeting under the dark look Quinn gave her.

Director Sylvester exchanged a look with her assistant who rolled her eyes and looked disgusted. "There are serious threats to our nation every day. People are killed, murdered, jailed, harmed, abused and these women are playing with my agents! Why does Lopez have it in for you?"

"I ruined her date."

"The only reason you are not inspecting the sewers for suspicious activity right now is because those paintings were not actually stolen."

"Yes, Director Sylvester," Quinn murmured faintly.

"Fabray, get those women in my office by this time next week or I will have all your heads on pikes at the entrance to this building and use that as a deterrent against crime and it will be more effective than your results so far!"

"Yes, Director Sylvester."

Santana snorted as she cut out an article from the newspaper. The caption under the main photograph read: 'Hero Agent Thwarts Art Thieves'

In the accompanying photo a bedraggled looking and thoroughly miserable Agent Quinn Fabray stood next to Van Gogh's Starry Night'.

"Put that up on the wall, Sugar loaf. That's one for the wall of shame."


	3. Chapter 3

Third date

"Wait, wait, wait! I want to carry you in," Santana insisted as she attempted to pick Brittany up bridal style and carry her along the hallway to her apartment.

Brittany giggled at the look on her girlfriend's face, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as they stumbled into the wall.

"That wasn't me, the floor wobbled," Santana insisted.

"Your apartment isn't on a boat, you wobbled," Brittany laughed, landing a soft boop onto Santana's nose with her finger.

"Or you had too much shrimp for dinner."

"Or you had too much to drink." Brittany looped her arms around Santana's neck and gazed adoringly at her. "Why are you carrying me like we just got married? Are you trying to tell me something?"

Santana's face got unusually warm and much to Brittany's delight she tried to hide and duck her face into Brittany's neck.

"Boo yah!" Brittany crowed, snapping her fingers next to Santana's ear. "Third date's a charm. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me for any longer."

"Shut up, doofus."

"It's so romantic when you call me pet names."

They staggered to a stop in front of Santana's apartment, the smiles and laughter momentarily forgotten as an ominous worry began to niggle at the sight of an envelope pinned to the door. Santana ripped it down from the bright pink chewing gum it had been attached with and let out a forced chuckle.

"I bet it's from that old crone in the apartment below. She's always telling me to shut up even when I tell her it's Sugar makes all the noise. I don't even know how Mrs Hagberg can hear anything, I'm sure she's stone deaf. She even had the nerve to shout at me when Sugar burnt lunch and set the smoke detectors off. The whole building had to be evacuated. It's not even fair because I don't even eat poptarts!"

"Does Mrs Hagberg always send her notes with the FBI seal on them?"

"No, she usually just comes after me with a broom," Santana huffed and tore open the letter.

###

Dear Santana,

The Director of the FBI, S. Sylvester, kindly requests your presence at noon tomorrow at the FBI HQ. Feel free to bring a plus one. Preferably Ms. Brittany S. Pierce. This is non negotiable.

Sincerest regards,

Rachel B. Berry

(Special Agent)

twitter at broadwayberry

###

Underneath the neatly typed letter was a hand written post script.

###

We have Sugar. Don't be late.

Love, Quinn

###

Brittany gasped, "What a heinous bitch."

She turned to look at Santana whose hand was shaking as she stared blankly at the paper.

"Santana?"

"What?" Santana's voice croaked and she looked up from the note. She cleared her throat. "You... uh... you... you should stay here. I'll go get her. You stay here."

"Uh, no."

"What? Brittany, please. You have to stay safe. I have to keep you safe."

"Santana, sweetie. We're a team now. We work together, we're stronger and smarter together. One big family and no one gets left behind."

"But, Brittany...," Santana began to blubber helpless tears of frustration. The late night, over indulgence of alcohol and the shock of finding her best friend missing was finally catching up to her all at once. "Shit just got really real," she said with a whimper.

"I know you're worried about her, sweetie, but she's learned from the best. She'll be okay for now."

"That's what I'm worried about," Santana sniffled pathetically. "She might do something stupid."

"We need a plan," Brittany calmly took Santana's key out of her pocket, opened the door and ushered her distraught girlfriend inside.

"Yes, Brittany, that's it. You're a genius. We're going in the front door," Santana slapped her fist into her palm determinedly, her tears momentarily halted.

"And then?" Brittany prompted.

"We get Sugar and exit through the front door."

"Honey, that's not really a plan."

"Plans suck," Santana huffed. "They never work and it ends up you just hafta go with the flow... and have backup." She sniffled, mournfully. "Sugar is my backup."

"She's a smart kid."

"She's a kid. She's a teeny, tiny, baby child. She's like, twelve."

"She's twenty one."

"Oh my god, Brittany. What if she meets an FBI agent and falls in love with them and runs off with them and I never see her again?"

"Santana," Brittany tried to placate her as she helped take her jacket off and removed her shoes. "I think you're drunk, and tired, and you've gone off on a huge tangent. The Director obviously wants to meet with us about something."

"My backup is kidnapped and yours is a cat," Santana whined, ending with a hiccup.

"I know, sweetie," Brittany rubbed her back soothingly and led her to the bedroom.

"Why aren't you as drunk as me? It's not fair."

"You're a lightweight, babe."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Do you think she'll be all right until I'm not drunk?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine. I more worried about if the FBI will be all right."

"Jerks," said Santana, flopping face down on her bed and muttered into her pillow. "I hope she gives Quinn a migraine."

Without warning she bolted upright narrowly missing cracking her Brittany's head. "I should ring her. Where's my phone, Britt?"

"Shhh, she'll be asleep now. It's 2am."

"You're right. You're so right. How're you so clever? Sugar's really mean if you wake her up. You're so smart, like, hot smart, and sexy, and funny, and you smell amazing. I love you."

Her face radiant with delight, Brittany watched Santana fondly as she kicked off her boots chuckling as Santana made little sighs of contentment as she snuggled into the bed.

"Okay, drunky. Sleepy time."

"If you wore glasses I'd die from the hotness, Britt," Santana mumbled.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Brittany let out a slow breath as her girlfriend finally passed out on the bed. She pulled out her phone and spoke into it. "

Kiki, call Lord Tubbington."

The phone went straight to voicemail and Brittany's own voice spoke back to her.

"Sorry, Lord Tubbington is on the night patrol right now. Try calling back after dawn. Unless you're selling religion, insurance or class A drugs - he doesn't want any!"

Brittany lay down next to Santana, setting her alarm for 6am. She smiled as Santana instinctively snuggled into her.

"Are you asleep?" Brittany whispered.

Santana made a strange noise which could have been anything.

"I've been thinking," Brittany spoke softly as she rubbed Santana's back. "You don't send an invite to someone you want to arrest. You just break down the door and catch them with their pants down. The director knows you and they have something we want."

Santana mumbled something into Brittany's side.

"That's right - Sugar. So, you must have something they want. But what? Diamonds?" She frowned in thought. "They can't prove that, and we didn't steal any paintings. so..." Brittany shook Santana lightly much to Santana's distress. "Santana, what do you have that they might want?"

Santana groaned and rolled over pinning Brittany to the bed then promptly fell asleep on top of her. Brittany ran her hand through Santana's hair and made herself comfortable.

"I guess there's only one way to find out."

FBI HQ – Noon the next day

"If you have laid one finger on her it will be the last thing you ever do with that-"

Brittany nudged her girlfriend interrupting her tirade against the poor receptionist in the lobby of the FBI HQ building. Santana turned around to see ten agents surrounding them, all with their guns trained directly on them.

"-finger..." she trailed off.

Agent Puckerman ran in between the two groups waving his arms and ordering the agents to stand down and disperse. He turned back to the women with a lopsided grin as he tucked his shirt into his pants.

"Sorry 'bout that. I was supposed to meet you but then I had to go real bad. You know, when nature calls and all that. I think it was the cafeteria mystery meat."

Santana rolled her eyes in disgust and folded her arms crossly.

"Follow me, ladies." Agent Puckerman began to lead them out of the hostile lobby. "Santana, sorry about this. If it makes you feel any better we're still trying to get that marker pen off of Hudson's head."

"Good. Keep him away from me, I am seriously not in the mood today."

"Sure thing. Did you you use some NASA space pen or industrial paint? Because it's not coming off."

"Stop talking to me, Puck."

Agent Puckerman led them to a large, bright briefing room with one person seated in the front row, their phone blasting out candy crush obnoxiously loud.

"That piece of shit owl," Sugar grumbled at her phone before spotting her rescue party. She was up and running as soon as she set eyes on them and leapt onto Santana, forcibly throwing herself into her arms.

"Oh my god, Santana, it was horrible. I had to sleep in a cell with a plastic sheet," she sobbed. "Do I smell of disinfectant?"

"Uh.. All I can smell is McDonald's breakfast."

Sugar wailed. "They made me eat a McMuffin for breakfast."

"What?" Puck protested. "Who doesn't like McDonald's breakfast?

Brittany leaned over and took a good sniff of the girl. "You smell amazing. Like bacon mixed with..." She sniffed again. "Is that Britney Spears?"

"Of course. Santana got it for me for Christmas," Sugar said through a teary smile.

"No, I didn't," said Santana in confusion.

"I bought it for you to give to me."

"It's not Christmas for another two and a half months."

"Can we just focus on me please. I've been kidnapped and you're complaining about Christmas already. You need to prioritise."

Santana sighed. "Sugar. Are you okay?"

"Am I okay? Ha!"

Puckerman stepped back at the melodramatic shout.

"They tricked me!" Sugar's outrage rushed to the front of her mind. "They said they were pizza delivery and I'd won a free pizza. I've never been so betrayed in my whole life."

Brittany stared on at her outburst in amazement. She'd never seen one of Sugar's rants up close before, only heard about them from Santana and she was sure Santana had been exaggerating.

"My lawyer will hear about this. I'll never be able to open the door to the pizza guy ever again. I am traumatised, Santana!" Santana nodded, obediently agreeing. "They've ruined pizza for me. You'll have to pay next time."

Santana opened her mouth to protest but was interrupted.

"Well, well, well, well, well. If it isn't Burglar Barbie and Agent Fake Boobs."

The group turned to find Director Sylvester glaring at them, flanked by smug looking Agents Fabray and Berry. "You've got some nerve showing your faces around here after the stunts you've pulled."

Brittany and Santana exchanged a puzzled glance.

"Uh, you wanted us to come here." Santana pointed out. "Blackmailed us, in fact, and I'm not an Agent, and these are real!"

"They are, I can vouch for them," Brittany raised her hand and grinned.

"That's enough of the pleasantries. Lets get down to business. Ladies, I invited you here today-"

"Blackmailed," Santana snapped.

"Kidnapped," Sugar huffed.

"Coerced," Brittany scowled.

The Directer ignored them all.

"-To inform you that the time has come for you to stand up for the good old stars and stripes. You must do your duty for your country."

They all stared at her blankly.

"Ladies, the United States of America needs you."

"I'm Dutch," Brittany responded instantly.

"I'm Canadian," Sugar followed immediately after with a shrug.

Sylvester's head pivoted like a Terminator, her body not moving with it, until she could stare at Santana. A razor sharp eyebrow raised as though daring her to argue.

Santana shrugged. "I don't give a crap."

"We need your help," Director Sylvester tried again. "There has been a threat against the President."

Rachel gasped. "There has?"

Quinn elbowed her. "Shut up, Berry," she hissed.

"Again, I'm Dutch," said Brittany.

"Our records indicate you have dual nationality, Ms. Pierce," Quinn interjected, stepping forward.

"Quinn, why are you talking to me like that? It's me, Brittany. B-R-I-T-T-A-N-Y."

A pained expression crossed Quinn's face. "I know, I know," she muttered.

"I'm Canadian," Sugar repeated.

"Are you really?" Rachel asked, fixing her wide eyed gaze on Sugar. "There is no record of you anywhere, Miss Motta."

Sugar clenched her jaw and took a small step closer to Santana whose eyes narrowed at Rachel in response.

"Don't you find that suspicious," Rachel cocked her head to the side dramatically, "Santana?"

"Bite me, Berry. She's with me and that's all you need to know."

Quinn crossed her arms and glared at the terrible trio. Santana glared back then sighed, her shoulders drooping.

"If you really want the truth," she reached up and put her arm around Sugar's shoulders. "I can't believe I'm telling you this but... I found Sugar as a baby on my doorstep swaddled in copies of Vogue."

Sugar nodded along agreeing with every word. "That's the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me, Jesus. Holla!"

If anyone had been watching Brittany at that moment they would have seen her bottom lip quiver for a split second before she resumed control of her expression.

"I told you they wouldn't co-operate," Quinn said quietly to the Director who was watching them all with something akin to amusement.

"If she's Canadian then she wouldn't be in your records anyway?" Brittany mused aloud.

"We have access to the Canadians records, we can get any data we want!" Rachel huffed and stuck her chest out with her hands on her hips.

"Then why don't you have Sugar's data?"

Rachel deflated a little and looked over to Sylvester for help. The Director frowned down at her.

"You, stop talking."

Rachel scowled and stepped back as Sylvester stepped uncomfortably close to Santana.

"You were in the FBI academy for a year, Lopez. What changed your mind?"

"I had to bunk with Berry. My request for room transfer was denied. I wasn't about to put up with that foghorn for four years."

"According to the 'top hundred criminals under thirty' list you're the fifth richest person in the country. And yet you've never filed a tax return..." Sylvester trailed off.

"You expect me to pay Quinn's wage with my hard earned taxes while she tries to catch me for reasons of pure speculation? I don't think so," Santana let out a sharp laugh.

"If that's all, we'll be going," Sugar tugged Santana by the arm. "I need to shower and throw up. Not in that order."

"Thank you for helping us with our enquiries," Rachel smiled at Sugar who was trying to tow Santana and Brittany out of the door with her.

"Hold up," Puckerman stepped forward blocking the door and Santana shoved him in the chest for good measure.

"Don't touch her, Puckerman," Brittany shoved him too.

"Hey," Puckerman looked offended. "What's with all the shoving?"

"Ouch," Sugar squealed as Quinn grabbed her arm. "Don't touch what you can't afford, Fabray!"

"Get your claws off her, Q," said Santana stepping up until she and Quinn were face to face, inches separating them as they glared at each other.

"Fifty on Quinn," said Puckerman.

"A hundred on Santana," Brittany scoffed.

"Nah, Q's got this. She is like crazy scary sometimes," said Puck.

"Whatever," Sugar snorted. "Santana's from Lima Heights, she'll kill you all."

"Shut up," the Director's voice rang out like a whip. Everyone halted their jostling and glaring matches and silence descended. "No one is going anywhere, and I suggest you all take a seat." Her tone left no room for argument.

"Whatever, Sue," said Santana, sitting next to Brittany and Sugar, the three Agents seated behind them all facing the Director. "You haven't even told us what you want. Spit it out or we're gone."

"I want you to investigate some property belonging to the Schuester syndicate."

"As in Will Schuester?" Rachel squeaked. "The owner of the 'Broadway Beats' Lounge?"

"He's hiding something. Something more than the usual drugs business. I have a source who informs me he's gained highly classified schematics to build some kind of machine. They think it's a weapon. Find out what's going on, I want to know what he's hiding."

She looked down at the six befuddled people in front of her.

Santana looked puzzled. "I don't understand, why do you want us?"

Apparently ignoring the question, Sylvester turned her attention to the woman next to her.

"Miss Pierce. You spent a year at MIT as some kind of prodigy when you suddenly quit. Why was that?"

"The climate didn't agree with Lord Tubbington," Brittany's eyes twinkled as she answered the Director.

"Lord what?"

"Her cat," offered Sugar, helpfully.

"Jesus Christ on pedallo. Give me strength, Pierce."

"Also, they wouldn't let me work on my own ideas. They just wanted to experiment on my brain." She noticed Sugar side eyeing her hard. "Not in a gross way, Sug. Ewww."

"Anyway, Pierce. Despite their attempts to drain your brain dry you appear to have retained your smarts, how else would you be giving my agents the run-around?"

"'S'not hard," Santana chuckled merrily until someone kicked the back of her chair. "Do that again Fabray, I dare you," she snapped.

"Why do you want to know about me?" Brittany asked, intrigued.

"I've heard tell that this machine is based upon one of your designs, procured during your time at MIT. Any idea what it could be?"

"What?" Brittany looked shocked. Santana watched her worriedly. "I didn't design any weapons, I would never design a weapon. I swear!"

Santana reached over the armrest to her. "It's okay, Britt. we know." She rubbed her thumb over the back of her hand comfortingly. "What sort of designs did you make?"

"Lots of things. A hover-board. A humane bug zapper. Um, a machine that makes you breakfast in bed, but I used that schematic to clean up cat sick, and I have a girlfriend now I don't need a robot to make me breakfast. They were all rough sketches though, I didn't get time to build any of them."

"That's what you want Brittany for, to identify the machine?"

"And stop it if she has to."

"What about us?" Sugar asked. "Is this all we are to you, bait to catch Britt?"

A grimace flickered over Sylvester's face. "No," she said reluctantly. "You're thieves."

"How dare you!" Sugar gasped indignantly.

"Allegedly," interjected Santana ignoring Sugar's theatrics.

"I want you to steal it."

"We don't do stuff like this," Santana protested. "Despite what shit Fabray says about me behind my back."

"You're quick, smart, and think on your feet. Which is more than I can say for some of my agents." An uncomfortable shuffling could be heard from the agents seated behind the thieves. "You stole forty million dollars worth of diamonds on a romantic whim."

"Did not."

"Lies, all lies."

"Never proven.

"Do what you've got to do and there may be a pardon in it for you all, and some legitimate papers for Miss Motta."

"What the...?"

"She said you may be considered for a pardon for your crimes," Rachel said loudly in case they misheard.

"First of all, I'm not deaf, Berry," Santana scowled at her. "Second of all, I think you'll find I have never been legitimately arrested or tried or acquitted for any crime. I don't know where you get this bizarre notion I need to be pardoned."

"Lets start with what you have been found guilty of, shall we?" Director Sylvester said ominously. "Vandalising government property, theft of government property, amongst other things. In 2009 the entire FBI academy hot water system was contaminated with blue dye and every single person who came into contact with it couldn't wash it off for three weeks."

Rachel gasped in horror. "That was you? My hair started to fall out because I washed it so many times!"

Santana sunk down a bit in her chair.

"I had to go to the Whitehouse to give a report... blue," the Director stared deep into Santana's soul.

Brittany sniggered. Santana bit her lip.

"I had to endure the next three years of my briefings with the President hearing blue jokes. 'Why so blue, Director? Everyone cheer up the FBI director, she's looking a little blue.'"

Puck coughed sounding suspiciously like a strangled laugh.

"Ahem," Santana cleared her throat and swiftly changed the focus. "Do you have any more information about the machine?" she asked as nonchalantly as possible.

Sylvester stared at her for another painful minute of silence. "That's where you'll begin. Question Mercedes Jones, find out whatever she can tell you about the weapon."

"Mercedes Jones?"

"The walk in. Berry."

Rachel jumped up beaming and stood at the front of the room to give her report ready for her chance to shine.

"Three days ago Gangster's moll, Mercedes Jones, entered the FBI building of her own accord-"

"Unlike some" coughed Sugar loudly at the same time Santana snorted and cracked up with laughter.

"What's funny about that? She handed herself into custody!" Rachel asked indignantly.

Quinn leant her head into her palm to hide her face. This was such a farce.

"That's enough," Sylvester snapped. She grabbed Santana by her shirt and pulled her to standing position. Brittany and Sugar stood up with them in alarm, hovering nearby just in case. Sue held Santana uncomfortably close.

"Either I get you tested for Ebola or you explain that disgusting noise you just made, Agent Lopez."

Santana gulped.

"I'm not an agent."

"You chose to put that uniform on once, and you cant act like it never happened." She let go of Santana who stared at her dazedly. "Now, I don't want to force you to do this with threats but I will find a way to deport your two friends here. Then, one day, Agent Fabray will catch you red handed and on that day I will throw away the key... Or you can accept this mission."

"Do we get paid? Ouch!" Sugar rubbed her ribs. "What? It's a legit question."

"No," answered Quinn.

"Do I get a gun?" Sugar asked.

"No."

"Unrestricted access to FBI files?"

"No."

"Shut up, Sugar. We haven't said we'll do it," Santana told her. Brittany leaned over and whispered in Santana's ear.

"You get unrestricted access to Agents Fabray and Berry," Sylvester continued.

"What?" The agents in question looked horrified.

"Whoa, this is where I draw the line," Santana held up a hand in protest.

"Berry, do you have those arrest warrants I asked for?"

"Yes, Director Sylvester."

"Oh okay," Santana dropped her hand again. "It's like that."

"Take Puckerman as well," offered Sylvester.

"Hell yes, this is going to be awesome." Brittany fist pumped.

"So, Lopez. What do you say?" asked Sylvester still wanting to hear the words from Santana's mouth.

Santana took a moment to gather her thoughts and enjoy a deep breath of sort of freedom. She looked over at her team. Brittany was excited, Sugar looked bored, Quinn looked like she was going to murder someone, Berry looked manic and Puckerman looked bewildered. It would be excruciating to work with the Federal Bureau of Idiots.

"There's one condition."

"Name it," Sylvester snapped.

"Brittany wants an FBI badge."

"And me."

"And Sugar gets one too."

"They're not agents!" Quinn protested.

"Temporary badges," Santana acquiesced.

"Done."

"Okay," Santana rubbed her nose giving herself a moment to think. "First off. 'Cedes Jones ain't no gangsters moll. She doesn't take second billing over anyone. Girl runs the show, headlines the show, and if she has walked in... something serious must be going down."

Sylvester almost smiled, looking at Santana with a glimmer of pride behind her stoic mask.

"Work with Fabray. Don't let me down," and strode out of the room.

The newly formed team stood around staring at each other, every one a little shocked at the outcome.

Puck cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence first. "I, uh, I have to go to the bathroom again."


End file.
